Engrave That Into Your Soul
by FHT3rdandCo
Summary: "Fight until your last breath." a pause and a terrifyingly joyful smile, "Filthy maggot." K2
1. Sin

_((A/N: ...sometimes I wonder why I have to be such an obsessive nerd that writes crappy fandom so passionately and then I remember how fun it is and suddenly I don't give a flying fuck as to why I do anything. x3;_

_Whoo-hoo! First South Park fic! As per my MO it's stupidly cryptic and supposed to be semi epic. Ideally I succeeded in doing something along those lines._

_Disclaimer: Anywho I don't own squat._

_Muse-chan out!))_

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"_Sins_ can't be forgiven."

-engrave that into your soul-

The searing pain brought a bitter and angry tear to his previously dry eyes. Nothing would spill forth; _he refused_ to allow tears of all things to cascade down his cheeks. Teeth gritting and body splintering he ground at the now very surprised figure the only words that he ever spoke in his very short life.

"My cheeks are meant for blood."

The screams that followed were inevitable and one the pain at last ceased dead eyes were left to stare blankly at the empty sky.

Today, today he wouldn't just let it happen. He would grit his teeth and fight until his very last breath and he wouldn't give up. He would _never_ give up.

_Will blood rain today?_

Perhaps tears were the appropriate response but all Kenny could think while waking up was that anything wet in bed ought to be a little less innocent than fucking _tears_.

(scratch that; looking at the tearful face of a cute little virgin was totally killer)

"_Lame._" He muttered from beneath his blankets, noting that he had lived all through yesterday. He made a point of taking off his parka when he lived; it was a nice signal to his groggy morning persona that yesterday was probably a good day.

Probably being the operative word. Kenny cocked his head the side uncomfortably, he felt extremely tense and miserable…

With a sigh he shrugged and tossed his blankets to the side. He'd learned _long_ ago that if something awful was going to happen to him there was nothing he could _really_ do to stop it so he might as well chill and enjoy the ride.

Also, when relaxing the body the impact usually hurts a _bit_ less.

On that note Kenny decided it was still probably a good idea to skip breakfast. Frozen pop tarts just somehow didn't sound like they would go well his current nausea.

_Will it rain blood today?_

Kenny stuck his head out the window and glanced at the sky with mild curiosity, _no dice_.

If it wasn't raining blood Kenny supposed that the day could probably get better.

_Fight until your last breath_

School proved to be what Kenny always anticipated; dangerous, boring, and amusing all in one. While attempting not to get crushed by the steamroller was mildly stressful, trying to figure out where and why the Fatass had got one was certainly entertaining, and the argument between Kyle and Fatass on the way home was monotonous and boring enough to put him to sleep.

That would be where the trouble began.

"Fucking jewfag, stop being a pussy!"

"Fuck you fat tits! It was my favorite fucking hat!"

"Stop such a whiny bitch and get over it you filthy jewrat!"

Stan let out a small, almost unnoticeable, groan and gave up trying to separate the yelling duo. Cartman's latest scheme had resulted in the ultimate loss of Kyle's precious hat and the red head was more than a little pissed with the larger boy.

This of course left poor Stan without any entertainment other than the sleeping boy next to him. And while Kenny was rather fun to hang out with, Kenny also rarely fell asleep on the bus ride and Stan felt bad waking him up if he didn't get much sleep the night before.

Shaking his head, the blue eyed boy shot the outside of the bus a glance just in time to spot the change in scenery.

The change terrified him.

Words caught in his throat, unshed tears rushed to his eyes, and a pain that struck his very core with horror.

And then the scenery was back to normal before he could even scream. Shivering slightly Stan spared a glance at the arguing duo. Was he imagining things? What _was_ that?

As an honorary resident of South Park and more particularly one of Eric Cartman's close friends Stan had seen some pretty horrible things in his life and while some had left their distinctive mark on his psyche most things he had managed to shrug off.

He couldn't shrug off what he saw… he wasn't even sure what it was he saw out the window, it had been so fast and _strange_ that Stan couldn't even place what had scared him about it. All he knew was he was almost too terrified to move and he didn't know why.

He was scared to know why.

Without any more delay Stan did what he tended to do in most situations that overwhelmed him with far too much emotion; empty his stomach.

"Dude, gross! What the hell Stan?"

Stan supposed, dizzily, that while puking on the bus out of fear was about the gayest thing he'd ever heard it was kind of worth it to shut up Kyle and Cartman's gay ass fight.

Halfheartedly he felt thankful that the only other passenger on the bus was a mostly asleep homeless guy, he didn't fancy being made fun of the rest of the year for getting car sick.

"The fuck was that for you dirty hippie?" Cartman demanded, irritated by the bile that had gotten into his hair.

Stan shook his head in a confused fashion, equally disturbed with the situation and beginning to feel nauseas all over again.

"Are you okay man?" Kyle's anger had faded in favor of concern; Stan usually recovered pretty fast from puking (given his unnatural knack for it), if he still looked so sick chances were he was actually ill.

Kenny, jolted awake by the rancid stench of Stan's lunch, grumbled unpleasantly at the boy while attempting to shake off the flakes of digested pizza that had splattered on him.

It was then that Kenny caught sight of the scenery outside the bus.

_Let it rain._

Shaken Kenny jumped to his feet, ignoring his friends' startled exclamations and stared horrified at the window for what felt like forever.

"Dude, what's with Kenny?"

Stan responded by puking again.

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_((Ending Notes: Short, I know, but I'm rusty. Look forward to updates in the near future! (and ideally longer chapters)_

_Also any constructive criticism is more than welcome! I'm really trying to improve my writing x3_

_-Muse-chan feeling inspired))_


	2. Pain

"_Pain_ cannot be stopped."

-engrave that into your soul-

There are several advised ways to review a day calmly and without prejudice. None of these were applied when one Eric Cartman slammed his front door shut and stormed to his room in order to plot revenge.

It wasn't enough that the retarded little Jew had to mega bitch on him after loses his (stupid) hat but then the goddamn hippie had to puke _all over him_ and to top all off he had been commandeered to guide the alarmingly (annoying) scared poor bastard home because 'he might get run over if he walks home like that' and 'he could be sick'.

Sometimes Eric was sincerely sickened by his companion's pussy ass complaints. So what if the stupid poor bastard was sick and got run over? Why should he care! He has _far_ more important things to do than walk poor boy home!

Said far important things awaited his return and gleamed _beautifully_ on his desk, making him all but forget his plans for vengeance.

With a general grumble that he'd give them all diarrhea or something later Eric approached his desk with excitement that only came from a get rich scheme he was _sure_ would work this time…

_Let it Rain_

When Kenny finally finished emptying his stomach into the porcelain god he collapsed, probably from malnutrition he if he had to guess, near said smelly toilet and found himself unable to move.

If he was lucky his father would come in to relive his breakfast along with some countless bottles of alcohol as well and help him. If he was unlucky the same would happen but Stuart would be too drunk to notice the collapsed teenager.

From experience Kenny knew to count on the second option.

With a sigh that really took more energy than sighs ought to, Kenny contemplated calling for assistance. It was futile, he knew, but some part of him always mildly hoped that if he _called_ for help he wouldn't die of malnutrition alone in his own house or something equally stupid.

Experience told the boy that this was a moot point. When he was a child he would try very hard to live, struggle and cry and scream even in vein hopes to _live_.

Back then death had scared him. And then when that fear faded, at about six or seven, he began to fear pain. Death was for lack of a better word _excruciating_ and he was never the strongest of children.

And then he realized it hurt a lot less if you didn't struggle. In fact his death rate remained exactly the same with or without trying to live but the pain went down by at least half.

Grinning dryly, Kenny awaited whatever fate.

At least it wasn't raining blood.

_Never give up._

To call it a bad day would be a slight understatement but to call it the worst day ever would be an overstatement, Kyle had had much worse days. Not only had the (fucking, annoying, bastardizing, evil, bigot, son of a bitch) fatass destroyed his favorite hat(letting the _whole goddamn world_ see his hair, something that he generally tried to avoid at all costs) but Kyle also had the _wonderful_ experience of getting lectured by a very irate bus driver, practically carrying a sick Stan home, and convincing the (stupid goddamn) fatass to walk Kenny home(because Kenny seemed just as freaked as Stan, and Kyle was worried they both had gotten sick), which wasn't easy and Kyle doubted the bastard actually went through with it.

It didn't help that Stan had puked once more on the way home before losing consciousness.

Kyle sighed and flicked some hair away from his eyes and brought his attention to the Biology homework he had been avoiding for the better part of the week. While he normally finished his homework fairly early in order to have spare time for a random quest or another there was just something about Biology that he was never quite able to get good at.

Maybe it was his complete lack of interest in the organelles of a cell and their various purposes.

With a sigh Kyle debated making a study group for the class, it wouldn't be hard to get other people, Token excelled in the subject and Red seemed to have a knack for dissection…

But then he'd have to invite Stan and much as he loved Stan the boy could _not_ for the life of him pay attention in a study group. He tended to distract people too. And there would be no explaining to him that 'I don't want you to go because you're distracting', he'd probably take offense. Maybe if he arranged for the fatass and Kenny to take him somewhere else ahead of time…

Kyle sighed, sometimes having super best friends sucked, this was way too complicated for just setting up a study group…

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_((Ending Notes: Bleh, this chapter didn't turn out quite how I wanted it to. I think short chapters are starting to become a trend with me (-doesn't like that) aw well, I got what I wanted to get into this chapter and that's what's important, nee?_

_-Muse washing dishes.))  
_


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